Glee 1. Chapter 1

**I'm ignoring HEAPS of timeline issues here, and pretending that Will had moved out of home for like a week or something before he got disqualified from sectionals… and also pretending that Will didn't kiss Emma after the 'My life would suck without you' performance.**

**Also, this isn't beta'd so my apologies for any shoddy proofreading!**

He knew it was inappropriate to think of her that way, she was his student and she was 16 years old, but something in him had changed, and he found it very unsettling. It hadn't started until he'd left Terri, he supposed that until then he'd had something tying him down, a commitment of sorts, and he was an honest man, he wouldn't betray his wife.

But she had betrayed him, and that's when it had changed.

Not straight away, the first few days he'd been too mad, and then too hurt, consumed by the issues he faced, and then in glee one day she smiled at him. That was all it was, an over excited smile, it reminded him of the way she had smiled at him when she'd been infatuated with him, and it irked him for a moment and then all of a sudden, it didn't, and that irked him more.

It made him feel something he couldn't describe, like a sense of excitement over something new and forbidden, he wasn't sure if he liked the feeling, but he knew it wasn't going away. So he convinced himself that as long as all it was just a feeling, something he kept to himself, then it was fine, he wasn't hurting anyone.

He found that night, that he thought about her before he fell asleep, lying in a cheap motel, staring at the dirty ceiling he couldn't help but let his imagination run wild. Images ran through his head, of her in the choir room, spinning and dancing, her skirt lifting as she moved, and he'd get a peak of coloured cotton panties, like he had once or twice in the past. Only now, in his head, there weren't other kids around her, and he was allowed to keep watching, in case her skirt flew up again. The thoughts made something stir, deep in his stomach, a churning feeling of arousal and exhilaration. His imagination got more vivid, and instead of him watching placidly while she moved for him, he was involved now. Guiding her through a step, his body pressed against hers as he manoeuvred her around the room, and in this fantasy he could touch her, her hands her arms, her body, and he could push himself against her, and eventually the passion would become too much, and she'd turn in his arms, and she'd kiss him, and it would go on from there. As he drifted off to sleep he imagined her laying beside him, her hair splayed out as she slept peacefully in his arms, their activities of the evening having worn her out.

The next morning he had to convince himself that he'd gone too far, sure it was all imagination, but he shouldn't have let himself think of a student that way, it was improper. As he'd walked out of the hotel room, and towards his car he'd been mad that he'd let himself get away with it, and he promised himself that these feelings would never resurface, and he would never have another moment with Rachel like the moments he'd had with her the night before, whether they'd been real or imaginary.

He couldn't help it though, when she had been standing before him that day in rehearsal, it had come flooding back. As he watched the kids practice a number they knew well, he couldn't help but stare at Rachel, watching her toned legs move, her much too short skirt sway, the way her silky brown hair flowed behind her as she moved, and how her face lit up with the music. He thought she was gorgeous, beautiful, her smile was amazing, and all he wanted to do was step forwards, pull her towards him, and kiss her, he wanted to know what those lips felt like. It thrilled him to know that at one point she had wanted him to know. There was no way he'd ever find out, but it was pretty seductive to think, that if he tried to woo her, he'd probably get what he wanted.

He was nicer to her after that, he put up with more of her diva moments, and approved her more of her wishes, and he knew some of the other kids were resentful about it, but he was careful about how much he granted her, and they'd never work it out. He liked to see her smile, so he smiled more, because she was the kind of person who always smiled back. On one or two occasions he granted himself the chance to touch her, a "no Rach, this arm goes here" and he'd move it for her instead of just telling her, or a "thanks for helping Finn with his vocals" back pat. He enjoyed them so much, and he never got an inkling from her that she didn't like the attention, so he didn't stop giving it to her.

When he was removed as faculty advisor for glee, the thing that upset him the most was that he wouldn't get to see her and talk to her like he wanted to, sure he'd still see her in Spanish, but there was little chance for conversation, and he never got to touch her. The most he could do in their new situation was stare at her legs under her desk discreetly when he was seated at his own. Or stop her on the way out of the room to ask her about rehearsals and how everyone was going, but she was too focused to see his ulterior motives, so she just answered his questions in detail.

Emma quitting after sectionals wasn't as upsetting as he'd let on, in a moment of insanity he'd given her the impression that she should stay so that they could be together, part of him had hoped that if they were together then he'd be distracted from Rachel. He'd been glad she declined though, because in all reality he didn't want to date her, and honestly he liked being with Rachel too much, even if it was only in his head.

He'd been so excited when Figgins told him he could go back to glee, and when he walked into their lunch time meeting that day his eyes had immediately found Rachel in the group of students, she didn't look happy, and his heart dropped, but she looked so cute, with her mouth all pouty. When they gave him the trophy and he told them how proud he was of all of them he couldn't help but watch as she beamed at him.

When the song they were singing for him started he recognised it, he knew what they were trying to say, they wanted him to know that they appreciated him, but those lyrics at the beginning made his heart soar. They weren't really appropriate for a student to sing to a teacher, but they were just what he wanted to hear, straight from her.

"Guess this means you're sorry, you're standing at my door, guess this means you take back, all you said before," she danced her way across the room, and all he could think was that he really was sorry, he was sorry that when he'd had a chance with her he hadn't taken it. He knew that wasn't what she was offering with the lyrics, but he could dream.

"Like how much you wanted, anyone but me, said you'd never come back, but here you are again," at the time it was true, he hadn't wanted her, but he did now, and god if he thought he could show up at her door and tell her that, and there'd be no repercussions he'd do it in a heartbeat.

As the song went on he got distracted by the other kids, their singing and their dancing, and he was so proud of how good they'd gotten, and it wasn't until the song ended that he remembered who he was most proud of. He watched as they all whooped and hollered as they ran out of the room on their post-win high, waving back at him as they disappeared off to eat their lunch. She stopped at the door, the other kids going on without her and she turned to look at him, her smile magnificent, she proclaimed, "I know I give you a hard time sometimes Mr. Shue, but I really am glad you're back, no one could ever replace you," and he nodded before she bounced out of the room too.

That night she was in his imagination again, her naked body pressed against his in a post coital state, not that he ever imagined the actual act of sex, part of him oddly felt that to do that without her was violating her privacy. The moments afterwards he had no issue with though, her body draped respectfully and sensually in bed sheets as she lay against him, head resting over his heart as her fingers traced patterns across his abdomen. "I'm so glad you came back," she whispers, lifting her head to place a kiss on the spot she was just resting, "I missed you so much Mr. Shue" she tells him as she put her head back down and he runs his fingers though her long hair. In his imagination she still calls him Mr. Shue, he made her call him Will a few times, but it sounded wrong, she sounded like Terri, or Emma, or on one horrible occasion when he wasn't paying enough attention she'd sounded like Sue when she used his first name. He didn't love any of those women, he loved Rachel, and she called him Mr. Shue in real life, so that s what she called him here, besides, it was pretty hot.

That's how it went on, for days and weeks and months, he tortured himself with the images of a relationship with the girl he was in love with. To the rest of the world he looked as if he'd moved on, leaving Terri and watching Emma walk away, he'd found himself a new place to live and he seemed better than ever, but he was beginning to feel worn down. He'd see her at school during the day, and he wouldn't be able to hug her or kiss her or tell her how he felt, and then he'd get home, and she'd be waiting for him, and he wondered if he would ever walk through his front door and actually see her there, if one day his dreams would come true.

He began to find it harder to draw the lines between reality and fantasy, and at school he'd constantly catch himself moments before touching her inappropriately, or having to remind himself not to bring something up that they'd had an imaginary conversation about as opposed to a real one. It was starting to worry him, that he was becoming too obsessed, almost like a stalker or a pervert, all he wanted was to be with her, and if she weren't his student he'd have made a move a long time ago, but she was, and she was only a kid, and he didn't want to hurt her. But he was getting out of hand, too much imagination and too much dreaming, and this wasn't a sweet crush anymore, it was an unbridled desire, so one day he just let go, whatever will be will be, and he may as well have a go, make a move.

Subtlety was going to be essential, if she seemed at all uncomfortable, he was going to need to be able to back out without ruining their student teacher relationship. He waited for the opportune moment, it took a few days to arrive, but it did eventually, she'd come to him, requesting some one on one help with a solo he'd given her. It was nothing unusual, she often came to him for a bit of extra help, only usually he did his utmost to suppress any feeling he had for her, today would be different.

She stood next to the piano, singing as he played the melody for her, she was struggling with one particularly long note, and instead of telling her to shorten it, as he may have before, he took his chance. "Rach, if you focus enough on your breathing you'll be able to get this," he assured her, "come here" he gestured for her to stand closer to him so he could reach her. She moved to his side without a second thought and he placed his hand at the top of her forearm, her eyes travelled to where he touched her, and she could see a small look of puzzlement adorning her features. He moved he hand quickly, but not too quickly down her forearm until it rested on the back of her hand, closing his big hand over her small one he picked her hand up and placed it on her stomach, holding it in place with his own. "Ok, so before you start the line, you need to take a deep breath, pull your stomach muscles in, not out like it naturally would when you breath," she gave him a look, as if to say _duh, I've been having singing lessons since I was a baby, I know how to breath when I sing_. He just ignored it and went on, "you have to pace yourself, the note is long, so you have to make sure there's enough breath left in you to get it out." He turned his head back to the sheet music and with his other hand indicated to a spot on the page, "when you get halfway through the line you should still have more than half of your capacity left, try it again, and feel where your stomach is as you go, try and even it out," he told. He regretfully let go of her hand, and turned back towards the piano playing the melody so she could sing along to it, after a few tries she was starting to get it, and when he figured she was getting tired he stopped.

He slid across the piano bench so he was no longer sitting in the middle of it and gestured for her to sit next to him. Again, she moved to be near him without a second though, and he wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing, either it meant she didn't mind the physical proximity even though she should, or it meant she didn't notice that they were close, as if it never crossed her mind that it were suggestive of something more. "Is there another song you want to practice?" he asked her, gesturing to the folder filled with sheet music in front of them.

"Umm," she paused, picking the folder up and leafing through the repertoire to see if there were any other numbers she wanted help with.

He took the chance to strike up conversation, "so how are things going for you at the moment?" he asked, "I've noticed the other glee kids aren't giving you as much of a hard time anymore."

She looked up at him, sufficiently distracted by his question, "well, most of them, I mean Kurt and Mercedes and I don't really ever seem to see eye to eye, but I think that's because are personalities just clash." She nodded as she thought, "And Quinn hates me less now that she and Finn aren't together and I haven't pounced on him like she thought I would, so that's nice because I don't get called treasure trail or man hands nearly as much." She looked down at her hands as she told him this.

"I don't know what a treasure trail is, but you don't have man hands Rachel" he assured her, and she looked up at him smiling that smile he worshipped.

She laughed a little before telling him, "a treasure trail is the line of hair that men have that goes from their navel down to their…" she stopped awkwardly, "uhh, down" she finished lamely, turning back to look at the folder, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. She suddenly turned back to look at him determinedly, "I don't have one" she assured him, as if worried he'd think the rumour had merit.

He laughed before placing a hand on her knee, "I'm sure you don't," he could see her gaze drift down, and if she had been wearing pants it probably wouldn't be that big a deal for his hand to be where it was, but the fact was, she wasn't, she was wearing a short skirt like always, and his hand was on her bare skin. He tried to gage the look on her face, she didn't look bothered per say by his affections, but she'd certainly noticed, it wasn't every day that a male teacher put his hand on her leg. "I've got an idea" he said, squeezing her leg a little before letting go and taking the folder out of her hands, how about we run through the choreography for 'touches me'? he offered, dropping the folder on the top of the piano as he grabbed her hand and pulled her up. He personally didn't like the song, but Brittany and Tina had convinced him to do a Mika song so he could give Kurt some 'guy' solos, and once he'd got all the kids into it they actually sounded really good singing it. It was a new choreography, and he wasn't really worried that she wasn't getting it, he knew that most of the mistakes she made were probably caused by the fact that she was partnered with Finn and he was a much slower learner then her, but she didn't seem to mind the suggestion.

This was part of the dream, getting to dance with her and not having to worry about it, he turned the backing music on and watched as she went into the dance without missing a beat. He stood next to her, and waited for a point in the song where her partner would be required, he was a little worried that this was going to have turned out to be a stupid suggestion as she seemed to know the whole routine, but he stress was calmed when he took her hand to spin her and she failed her other arm out awkwardly effectively stopping him from being able to take the step closer that he needed.

He stepped away from her, pausing the music, and as soon as he had she jumped in quickly with an apology, "I'm sorry Mr. Shue, it's a reflex, Finn usually overspins me," she explained, staring up at him apologetically through her eyelashes.

"Its fine, that's why we're doing this, if you can do it properly, then Finn will learn it faster," he assured her, starting the song again, "you don't have to worry, I'm much more coordinated then Finn" he assured her, and she smiled back at him as she started dancing.

It took a couple of tries to get past the first few partner steps, but once she trusted him not to drop her on her face she seemed to relax and get more into it. He was enjoying being able to take her hands and twirl her, and hold her waist as they moved next to each other. He loved the moment in the song where he got to pick her up, she was even lighter then he thought she'd be, and it meant he got to put one hand on her leg and the other on her hip as he raised her up in front of him. He made a mental note to put more lifts in the future dances, in case he got to practice them with her. Each time they went through the dance he got a little handsier, careful not to just grope her, but his grip was often firmer then needed or more splayed them required, and he was quite sure she'd noticed.

He was sure it wasn't just his imagination playing a trick on him, and that she really was leaning into him more, and stepping closer. She even tripped over once, and he was quite sure she'd done it so he'd have to catch her in what would normally be an awkward position of a teacher and student. As she fell forwards and away from him his hands flew out to catch her, and she didn't seem bothered in the slightest that one was resting just below her breast and the other right in the middle of her hips. She just turned her head back towards him and smiled at him appreciatively before she carried on. It went on like that for about 20 minutes, before he was slightly out of breath and decided they'd probably both had enough. Rationally he had known all along that it wouldn't happen, but a little part of him had desperately hoped that like in his imagination, when he showed her steps, or partnered her in choreography at some point she'd turn to him, grab him by the collar and pull him down for a kiss, but she didn't. She did however, at the end of their final run through of the dance turn awkwardly towards him and upon finding herself pushed up against his chest chose not to step away quickly. She tilted her head up so she could see his face and with slightly flushed cheeks she told him, "thanks for that Mr. Shue."

Despite his better judgement he reached up and brushed some of the hair out of her face, letting his fingertips slide gently over her cheek before he dropped his hand back to his side, smiling he spoke, "anything for you Rach." He said it with a smile, and it sounded casual, but there was an ulterior motive hidden beneath the surface, and he hoped she noticed.

Her eyes darted somewhat awkwardly around the room at the comment, before coming back to settle on his, and her bashful smile gave him courage to give her a different sort of smile, it was half way between a smile and a smirk, and it was the kind of look you gave a woman when you were delivering a pick up line. "It's not like you've ever needed much help with your dance steps," he told her, and if it was possible he lent into her even more, "you've always been very talented," and he let his hand brush over hers gently but purposefully as he said it.

She blushed a bit as if understanding it was more than a compliment, she nodded before finally taking a step back from him, "I should probably get going," she said backing away to pick up her bag, "I'll see you tomorrow."

He let his eyes fall appreciatively on her retreating form as she walked out of the room, he was quite sure she caught him staring at her ass when she turned to wave, but even if she had, she didn't seem bothered about it. "I'll remember to practice my breathing" she told him, placing a hand over her stomach as she said it.

He hoped he'd done enough, he didn't want to scare her, he'd just wanted to plant the seeds, get her thinking about the possibility, and who knew, maybe she'd respond over the next few days.

He saw her in passing the next day in the hallway, standing at her locker, and he took a moment to enjoy what she was wearing. A form fitting aqua t-shirt clung to her breasts, it was tucked into her waist height denim skirt, cinched with a belt around her tiny waist, and paired with her irresistible knee high socks that made her legs look as if they went on for miles regardless of the fact that she was quite short. He had a class he had to get to so he didn't stop to talk to her but he winked at her as he walked past. What the hell, if he was going to risk his job over her he may as well have some fun with it.

It wasn't until fourth period that he saw her again, she didn't have Spanish or glee that day so he hadn't really been expecting it, but he was sitting in his office when he heard a knock at his open door and he looked up to see her standing there in front of him. "Hi Rachel," he motioned for her to come in, which she did, although when she pulled the door shut behind her he was a little perplexed. "Is there something I can help you with?" he asked her politely, watching with interest as she blushed a little at the question and avoided eye contact.

"I guess, it's stupid really, I just was wondering, umm, about yesterday, I didn't, I ahh," she looked so embarrassed as she mumbled confusedly in front of him. He had a feeling she was trying to ask about his intentions the day before, but she had no idea how, and he wasn't going to help her in case he was completely wrong and just ended up blurting out how he felt about her. "I kind of, umm, I don't really know if this is, but, I, yesterday I couldn't umm," and at this point he took pity on her.

"Rachel are you upset about something?" he asked her, it was a safe question, if she was mad at him, or he'd made her uncomfortable she'd be able to say so, but if he was off base it might give her a way to tell him something else as well.

She looked up at him suddenly, "No, Mr. Shue, that's not it at all," she told him seriously, there was confliction in her eyes as she tried to find the words she wanted. "It sort of the opposite," she told him, but she didn't seem to understand what he was trying to say herself.

"You're the opposite of upset?" he tried to clarify, "You're happy?" he asked, hopeful that they were on the same wavelength.

"I, uh, no" she shook her head, and his heart sank a bit, "I mean, I don't know, I'm just, I'm confused" she patched together, and he saw some light shining through.

"You're confused?" he asked, and she nodded even though she looked so unsure of herself. "About yesterday?" he asked, going back to her first ramblings, and she nodded again. "Are you confused about our rehearsal yesterday?" he tried.

She looked at him with more clarity now, "yes," she confirmed. He smiled a little despite himself, he'd obviously given her enough hints the day before, that in true Rachel style she'd gone home and analysed the afternoon over and over in her head, the wink in the hallway must have just been the cherry on top that made her come and ask him.

He stood, and slowly made his way around the desk, "are you confused about your solo?" he tried, and he wanted to check all his bases before he went for the home run.

She shook her head, "no," and her eyes dropped away from his as he approached her, her teeth worrying her lip, the way she always did when she was nervous.

"Are you confused about the choreography?" he asked her, standing right in front of her now, it was as if he had some power over her, that he could make the ever determined Rachel Berry squirm.

"No" she replied again, sound more desperate, she looked up at him, and he was standing closer then he should have been, but she seemed not to notice. It was as if she was begging him with her eyes to understand her, and he was sure now that he did, but he still had butterflies as he asked.

"Are you confused about me?" he asked her, and with her eyes still glued to his she nodded, all he could think was _this could be it, the moment I've dreamed about_. He moved closer to hers still invading her personal space even more, he watched as she took a shaky breath, when he brought one hand up, to rest on her elbow she let her eyes flutter shut for a mere moment, before they opened again and returned to his face. He was so sure that he was right, there was no way he'd read this wrong, she was nervous but she wanted this. So he dipped his head, and the hand that was resting against her elbow pulled her forward ever so gently, and he pressed his lips against hers. It was only for a moment and then he pulled back, looking down at her quickly to gage her reaction.

Her eyes were wide, her face stunned, and when she realised he was waiting for something she simply whispered, "wow," before raising her fingers to her lips and letting her eyes glaze over in thought.

She wasn't giving him much in the way of emotion, so with a furrowed brow he asked, "wow, good?"

Her attention snapped back to him and with a quirked eyebrow and a newly returned determination she smiled a little before nodding, "yeah, wow good."

He let out a sigh of relief that he hadn't realised he'd been holding onto, as a smile graced his features too, and then she did it, albeit more gently then she did in his fantasies, she reached up, one small hand clutching each side of his collar and she pulled him down to meet her. Her lips moved against his this time, and his hands quickly found their way to her hips, pulling her tiny body into his. He felt her lips part and her tongue dance across his lower lip so he opened his mouth to hers, pushing his tongue into unexplored places, letting his tongue dual with hers as he let one of his arms encircle her waist and his other hand came up to sit at her jaw line. It was everything he'd dreamed and more, her body pushed against his as their mouths caressed each others. He broke contact with her for a moment, desperately needing a deep breath, but the mewling noise she made as he pulled away almost killed him with arousal and when her arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him back down to her, he just melted into the moment. Part of him knew this couldn't go on for long, they were in school, in the middle of the day, and someone could come knocking at his office door at any moment. So he decided to give himself one more minute, and to make it worth it. Stepping forwards he pushed the backs of her thighs into his desk, he could feel her grip on him tighten as he leaned forwards, letting go of her waist and bracing himself on the desk. His teeth nipping at her lower lip as he pushed his lower body against hers, dropping his hand from her cheek to trail his fingers over her exposed thigh, damn he loved those skirts, and after a taking a moment to savour the memory just in case he never got the chance to do this to her again he stopped.

He pulled her to a standing position in front of him, making sure she was balanced before he let go. He watched her drag a hand across her lips removing any evidence of their activities from her face, before she reached up and did the same to him. Slightly out of breath he looked down at her, "we can't do this here," he told her, even though he was quite sure she'd figured that out already.

She nodded at him as is to agree, casting a glance behind him at the still closed but not locked door, "But we _can_ do it again, right?" she confirmed as she too caught her breath.

She was smiling, but he held a serious expression as he spoke, he wanted her to know he meant what he was saying, "only if you want to," he told her, "if I've crossed a line, you can tell me, you don't have to feel pressured," he assured her.

She moved to sit in one of the spare chairs, "well you have crossed a line," she told him in her typical Rachel fashion, not noticing how blunt she could be. "I mean you're my teacher Mr. Shue," she whispered as if it made a difference, "but I'm quite mature for my age, and I know what I'm doing" she told him confidently.

"Right," he smiled at her as he rubbed a hand through the back of his hair, his eyes darted over to the clock on the wall, and he could see she only had a couple more minutes until the end of her free period. "You should probably get going," he indicated to the time, "we can talk about this sometime later," he assured her.

She nodded in agreement, "sure, maybe you could help me some more with my vocals after school today?" she offered as she stood up.

"I think I could do that" he smiled at her devilishly.

"ok, well I'll see you then," she confirmed, stepping forwards and leaning up to kiss him on the cheek, "Bye Mr. Shue" she waved as she walked out of the room, her face exploding into a huge smile as soon as her back was turned to him.

He watched her as she walked across the choir room and out of the door, enjoying the view, "this could be interesting," he muttered to himself as he retreated back into his office.

**Leave as a one shot? Or make into a multi-chapter? Please review and let me know!**


	2. Chapter 2

**So my internet ran away this week, and I considered going to the library to post this but then this freaky dude was using the computer and he was on one of those porny 'singles looking for a good time' sites, and I was like "I would not touch that keyboard with a ten foot pole now!" Because who knows what that dude does with his hands when no one is looking, considering he was practically having cyber sex while some one WAS looking!... so yeah, there's your excuse!!**

**This chapter is dedicated to ****SexySadie88, because it's her birthday! Well it was and this is a bit late, but retrospectively, have fun being 22!!**

Two weeks ago he'd kissed her for the very first time, and when that kiss had ended he'd told her that they couldn't make out in his office anymore, they had to find somewhere more private. They had sort of ignored that because they hadn't stopped doing it, that same afternoon he'd had a class last period, so by the time he got back to the choir room she was already waiting for him, sitting at the piano and tinkering away. They'd sat at the piano for all of about two minutes before she got up and walked into his office, shooting a seductive smile over her shoulder at him, and he'd done his best not to drool as he followed her like a puppy dog. They'd spent a quarter of an hour making out, pushed up against the inside of his office door when they heard someone walking into the choir room adjacent. After peaking through his blinds to see Sue taking an old glee club photo off the wall and hiding it behind a bookshelf before turning to walk over to his office, he quickly grabbed some sheet music and thrust it into Rachel's hands. He threw the office door open, moments before Sue got a chance to knock on it, "so that's the song I'm thinking we might introduce for regional's," he spoke, hoping she'd catch on.

"Thanks Mr. Shue" she piped up, the perfect actress, "I'll give it to my vocal coach so she can help me with it," she informed him, ignoring the other woman in the room and stalking out with barely a glance back.

Sue scoffed, "Regional's are in three weeks, figures you'd still be introducing new songs as late as this," she berated him, but he wasn't listening, his mind had followed the stunning and forbidden sixteen year old out the door.

Finally snapping out of his reverie after letting Sue babble on for another few minutes he turned to her and with a flat voice told her, "don't care what you think Sue," before walking back into his office and slamming the door behind him.

Since then they'd ended up in less than appropriate embraces in his office a total of seven times.

Only once had she actually come to his office in earnest, on that occasion she'd walked in to ask why Kurt was under the impression that they'd all be wearing flare pants as their regional's costume. The moment she stepped into his office she began angrily ranting, "big flares aren't flattering on anyone, not even Kurt, despite what he thinks, although he things most of the things he wears look good, they just look ridiculous, my dad said that he gives gay people a bad name because he encourages the stereotype that gay people are obsessed with bad fashion, which is totally not true, although my daddy has a bit of a flamboyant bowtie collection, but that is completely different, because it's a bit of an ongoing joke, Kurt's fashion is a joke of an entirely different sort, the kind where people laugh at you and not with you," she paused, "why are you smiling?"

He'd given her a chuckle before proclaiming, "You look cute when you pout," it was an attempt to distract her, something which was not lost on her. She rolled her eyes and then tried to glare menacingly at him, but her wrath had been undercut by the smile that was pulling at the corners of her mouth, so she'd given up and jokingly done her best pouty Keira Knightly impersonation. He raised his eyebrows in amusement, "now you just look like a duck," he told her, though quickly adding, "A really cute duck," to stop her from leaving. She'd paused by the door for a moment, giving him a chance to catch up to her and when he had he'd wrapped his arms around her stomach from behind, leaning down to whisper into her ear, "you look cute all the time." The way his breath had tickled her neck had made her shudder, and she'd lent forwards, and pushed the door shut just in time for him to start trailing kisses across her shoulder. When she'd turned, he ran both his hands down her back, to rest on her ass for a moment before giving her a squeeze as he picked her up so she could wrap her legs around his waist as he walked back to his desk chair and sat down so she was straddling him. Sadly on that occasion he'd barely had time to rub his hands up and down her thighs once before someone knocked on his office door. He'd stood up quickly, planting her on the floor in front of him and silently gesturing for her to leave through the choir room.

She'd gotten half way to the door when she turned suddenly and quickly whispered, "We aren't wearing flare pants though, right?" and he'd had to tell her no just so he could get her to leave. Now if he thought back, he couldn't even remember who'd been on the other side of the door, maybe a kid trying to turn in an overdue Spanish assignment, or a cleaner offering to empty his bins, all he could remember was that it hadn't been worth opening, and he should have just told her to stay because whomever it was would have left anyway.

On three occasions she had purposefully started their trysts, once by showing up in his office while he was marking freshman tests during lunch and proceeding to stand behind him placing kisses along his neck which grew in insistence the longer she went on. "If you don't stop doing that, I'm going to end up with very noticeable hickys on my neck," he'd informed her.

"So stop me" she'd whispered seductively before letting her teeth scrape gently across his earlobe, after that it'd been a flurry of movement as he'd swivelled his chair around and pulled her face down to crash into his. She'd ended up with her hands braced on his shoulders and one of her knees resting between his legs on the chair to stop her from toppling onto him.

On a second occasion she'd been waiting for him on his desk after school, but when he'd approached the door to his office and she'd heard not only his voice but also principle Higgins' voice she'd ducked under his desk quickly. Thankfully as he sat down at his desk he saw her and purposeful pulled the chair inwards so that if Figgins decided to walk around the back of the desk instead of in front of it, he wouldn't also get a view of the underage beauty crouched and hiding. He was deeply grateful that Rachel had the better sense not to try anything while she was under there, because the fact that he had a stunning sixteen year old nestled between his knees already had him so horny that he probably would have moaned if she'd touched so much as his calf.

When Figgins had finally left he'd felt her hands moving up his thighs, and before she got a chance to reach any place special he'd rolled his chair back. "what are you doing under here?" he'd asked her, he had a smile like a Cheshire cat, and even though he was curious and his heart was beating rapidly because he'd been so scared they'd get caught, he wasn't mad, not even a little.

"I heard Principle Figgins coming, so I hid" she said as she popped her head out from under his desk, placing her elbows on his knees and her chin on her hands.

He was confused though, "but you're a student, if he saw you in here he'd have just thought you were here to ask me something" he said.

She rolled her eyes, "I realise that now, but in the moment I panicked," she explained, "besides you don't look like you mind," she grinned at him.

He wasn't sure if she was referring to the smile on his face or the barely grown but still noticeable bulge in his pants, he hadn't had long to think about it though, because the door handle rattled and turned and he'd had to push her back under the desk before Figgins stuck his head back into the room to remind him of one last thing.

When he let her out the second time she'd been scowling and rubbing the spot on her head that had hit his desk as he'd pushed her under. After that she'd been less in the mood for a bit of afternoon delight and he'd walked her to her car and made her promise to text him when she got home so he'd known he hadn't given her a concussion that caused her to have a car accident.

The third time she'd walked into his office, shut the door behind her and asked, "Do you mind if I change in here?" When she turned to face him he could see the remnants of some sort of pasta dish on her shirt. He would have asked her about it but she'd already pulled her t-shirt up over her head to reveal a satin purple bra, and he was transfixed. She slipped her arms into the button up shirt that she had as a backup top, but made no move to do up the buttons as she leaned herself against his desk in front of him.

"You're staring," she pointed out, and he tore his eyes away from her body to look up at her face, which he found to be displaying a mixture of pride and amusement.

"You're stunning," he countered, and he liked that she was still innocent enough to blush at a compliment like that. She finally moved to do up some of the buttons on her shirt, but he intercepted before she'd done even one. He stood up, never taking his eyes of her face, and ran his hands over her clothed hips and up the inside of her shirt, enjoying the feeling of her soft skin under his fingers. When he finally dipped his head to kiss her she'd ruined the moment by pointing out that if someone were to walk in on them it'd be impossible to come up with an excuse for their current situation. "Who cares," he'd countered, "so we get caught and I get fired and we can do this where ever we want," he told her as he'd let his lips drift down her neck and over her collar bone and towards her cleavage.

"Sure," she agreed falsely, wanting to sarcastically point out to him the errors in his theory, but he was so good with his tongue and she let her head drop back to give him better access, "except that my father's will have sent me away to a convent or a strict boarding school in England to get me away from my exploitive teacher."

At that he pulled back, "you think I'm exploiting you?" he asked, and she felt bad when she saw the guilty expression on his face.

"Hey," she said as she took his face in her hands so he'd look at her, "I don't mean it like that, I want this, I'm sure," she told him pointedly.

He nodded slowly at her, "but other people won't see it that way," he finished for her.

"Yeah," she agreed, the air between them now tense, she didn't like tense, "you know, if it were just us, and we didn't have to worry about anyone else," she said as she leaned forwards into him, "I'd let you exploit me however you wanted, wherever you wanted, as often as you wanted," she smiled as she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down to kiss her again. His fingers left trails of fire wherever they roamed, and she loved the way he traced the curves of her body, enjoying the first time she'd really let him past her clothing. Thankfully however, on this occasion he had more self control then her and eventually his hands moved to her buttons, and he made quick work of doing them up for her, before disengaging completely.

"You're right," he told her disappointed and pouty face, he leaned in to brush one final kiss across her lips, "another time, another place," of course they weren't quite done with his office, but they hadn't known it at the time.

On two occasions it had been him who started it, she'd walked in, with an office memo in hand, "I got a note from the office that said you needed to see me?" The first time she'd said that it had been said with confusion, because he'd never asked for a meeting before, but had totally been worth the bruise she'd gotten in the spot where her back had been pressed into the door handle. The second time it had been flirty and knowing, because she was pretty sure she knew what was coming.

The first time he'd been all hands, and she hadn't minded in the slightest, sexy horny teachers totally made her hot, and the whole experience was so passionately new and exciting that she had sort of enjoyed it when he'd held her ass still while he ground the lump in his pants into the front of hers. On that occasion the bell had rung and she'd had to leave quite quickly to get to a biology test.

He'd grabbed her arm, quickly pulling her back to him just long enough that he could whisper in her ear that he'd make it worth her while if she'd wear a skirt the next day. She'd placed one more searing kiss on his lips, tracing them with her tongue before she winked and sauntered out of the room.

The next day when she had again walked in, note in hand, wearing the tiniest denim mini skirt she owned (and was usually saved for days she was going to wear stockings, though that was not the case on this particular day) he'd choked on his coffee when he saw her. "I can practically see your uterus in that thing," he pointed out, mesmerised by her legs as she walked over to perch herself on the edge of his desk in front of him.

"You told me to wear a skirt," she'd said with a sexy smile and a head tilt, "So I'm wearing one, pay up," she teased. He leaned past her picking up a set of papers that were stapled together, he handed them to her and she stared down at the sheet music on them, "is this a solo?" she asked sounding a little confused. He'd nodded as she'd looked up at him, "oh, thanks," she said appreciatively, but sounding a little disappointed.

"Oh thanks?" he questioned, "you were begging me for this the other day" he indicated to the pages, not understanding why she wasn't ecstatic.

"Yeah, but", she paused now sounding a little embarrassed.

"But what?" he asked her.

"Nothing," she countered, "thank you for this, really, it's what I wanted" and she leaned forwards to place a kiss on his cheek, as if to prove she really meant it.

"You don't seem happy" he pointed out, "were you expecting something else?" he asked, wanting to know if he'd offended her.

She hadn't been brave enough to admit, that when he'd told her he'd make it worth her while if she wore a skirt, she'd assumed he'd meant 'in a sexual manner.' So instead she'd plastered her best fake smile on her face, placed a hand on each of his shoulders and told him, "no, this is better then what I expected," she told him, and she was a good enough actress that she'd fooled him for now. "All I was expecting was a kiss," she admitted in a very watered down truth.

He'd chuckled before leaning towards her, "I think I could throw in one of those too," he said, gently kissing her jaw, and then her cheek and then her lips. He'd been a bit shocked though when she'd excused herself after that, instead of staying like usual until they were almost caught in the middle of a steamy make out session.

The final time she'd seen him storming down the hallway, and had as subtly as possibly followed him back to his office, only watch the door slam shut just before she reached him. She'd knocked gently not waiting for a response before opening the door and following him into the room. "WHAT?" he'd spat as he whirled around to find out who had dared bother him when he was this pissed off. When he'd seen her standing there he'd taken a deep breath, exhaling slowly, "sorry, I didn't realise it was you," he told her curtly as he sat down.

She shrugged calmly, "what's the matter?" she asked, as she edged nearer to him, careful to leave him some personal space as she did.

"Sue is the matter, God I just don't understand why she hates me so much," he half yelled, "she wrote an anonymous letter to the show choir board telling them that I've had you all on steroids to enhance your dance abilities, and also so I could get Kurt's voice the way it was," he exploded.

Her eyebrows shot up in shock, before furrowing in confusion, "Wait, if it was anonymous then how did you know it was from Sue?" she asked, although not doubting at all that it probably was the creepy and bizarrely tall coach.

"It was written on cheerio's stationary," he explained, seeming to calm down a little, "Figgins said he'd have you all drug tested, but if you all came out clean then he expected an apology from the board for making accusations without reasonable justification."

She shrugged as if to indicate she didn't care about drug testing, "you may want to fake Noahs test if you want that apology," she pointed out, and he laughed half heartedly.

"I just don't understand why Sue has it out for me," he looked up at her, "or all of you guys," he added.

"Really?" Rachel asked incredulously, and he looked at her expectantly, as if waiting for her to drop some great truth on him that would change the way he saw things. "She's jealous," Rachel said as if it were obvious.

"Yeah, she'd mad I took some of her cheerio's funding," he agreed.

She laughed almost condescendingly, "no, not of the money," and she moved to sit on his desk in front of him a spot she had taken a liking to because of its proximity to her teacher and her rare but appreciate height advantage. "She's jealous of you," when he scoffed she carried on, "she has all her cheerleaders walking around in fear, they do anything she asks, because their scared of her. She looks at you and she hates that you have the same thing, and it has nothing to do with fear, it's all about respect. At the end of the day, any of us glee kids would do anything for you if you asked, because we care about you, and you care about us. She doesn't have that, and it kills her, because she's realising there's a better way to gain control then through scare tactics, you have more power," she explained, "and three of her cheerio's," she added as an afterthought.

He looked up at her in slight amazement, "you know, sometimes you shock me with how grown up you are," he told her honestly.

She smiled down at him with an air of superiority, "well, I get some of my maturity from having an older boyfriend," she told him jokingly.

"Oh really, well he must be pretty awesome to have scored a girl like you," he laughed, going along with her.

"Totally," she whispered as she leaned in towards him, "he's damn sexy too," she added before letting her lips collide with his, but pulling away after a moment.

"What's wrong?" he asked her after seeing her disappointed expression.

"This never goes anywhere," she said, indicating to the walls around them.

He nodded in agreement and paused to think of a better suggestion, "tell your dads that Saturday glee practice is going to be an hour and a half longer than usual, because we're so close to regional's and we need the extra rehearsal time." He smiled as he stood up, pulling her to stand in front of him, "we'll do something together afterwards, ok?" he offered, and took her smile as a 'yes'.

Little did they know, that that they would never need his office again.

**Please please let me know what you thought of it! Reviews make writing so much more enjoyable!!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Ummm, so, I updated!... I know I havn't added anything to this in forever, but BuffyAnne sent me a message, and so I read some old reviews and I felt inspired, so I updated it! So you can thank her if you want! I hope there are still some of you out there who wanted another instalment, I hope it doesn't disappoint, and I'll TRY to make myself not be such a lousy updater in the future.**

**The story gets a bit plot heavier in this chapter, but I hope you like it, PLEASE let me know!**

She had never been so nervous in her life, sure they'd been making out in his office for two weeks, but today was the day, 'date day' as she had appropriately named it in her head. An hour and a half, that's what he'd offered her, and at the time she'd thought it wouldn't be long enough, but now that she'd had a chance to think about it, they'd probably not even spent that much time together over the last two weeks. Now she was going to have to think of conversations to have with him that didn't just include glee, and it's not like they could just make out for an hour and a half, could they? God, what if he wanted to have sex, was she ready to have sex with him, she sure knew she wanted to, but the idea of actually doing it freaked her out so much it made her kind of nauseous. She had almost decided not to go to glee at all, if she didn't show up then she couldn't spend time with him afterwards. She'd decided against it though, because firstly she couldn't afford to be skipping rehearsals this close to a competition and secondly, because he was all she could think about, all the time, she was infatuated, and so even though she was anxious about how It might go, she really really wanted to see him… and kiss him… and do all sorts of other things to him… maybe.

She changed her outfit four times, first it was a skirt, but that got ditched because it was too long and too pink (she didn't want to seem like a little girl). Then she'd tried another skirt, but it was deemed too short and flippy-uppy when she moved, she wanted to put on a bit of a show for him, but the rest of the glee club didn't need to see her cooch. Then she tried jeans, because although pants were not her preferred attire, they made her ass look hot, but then she remembered that he'd asked her to wear a skirt the last time she wore jeans, so she was back to square one. By the time she walked out the door, she was back in her flippy-uppy skirt, but with stockings underneath and a simple v-neck t-shirt that was hiding her best push up bra, that she saved for the days she wanted the world to believe she had boobs. Her dads had noticed and made a comment about her cleavage ("too much for school?") and she wondered why they'd let her buy it if they hated seeing her wear it. She'd dismissed the comment with a, "it's the first one I picked up and it's comfortable," which wasn't entirely truthful.

During practice she'd done her very best to be distracted by the task at hand to stress about the event afterwards, which she had realised whilst getting dressed, she had no clue about, for all she knew he was taking her swimming on their 'date', although it really wasn't warm enough to swim so she was pretty sure she was safe there. She'd done her best to concentrate on her dance steps and her breathing (like he'd taught her) and her pitch, and thankfully the rehearsal went by faster then she'd expected it to. When it came time for everyone to leave he didn't miss a beat, "Rachel, did you still want to go through your vocals today?" he asked her, loud enough a few people would hear and not expect her to leave with them, but not too loud that it was obvious.

"Yes please Mr. Shue," she told him as calmly as possible, "if it's not too much trouble," and they busied themselves with taking out sheet music and putting it on the piano to compare while they waited for the other students to depart.

As soon as the last student was out the door he turned to her, "ok, you wanna go?" he asked, clearly excited, and some of her anguish vanished at realising he was as eager to see her as she was to see him.

"We should probably wait until everyone is gone," she told him, "they all stand out in the parking lot and chat for a little while," she explained.

"Oh," he seemed kind of disappointed, "how long?"

"Umm," she paused to consider it, "well, it's getting colder out, so probably only five or ten minutes," she decided, and he seemed to perk up. "So what are we doing today?" she asked, wanting to find something to talk about so there wouldn't be any awkward silences.

"Well, I was thinking we could go back to my place," he said it casually but at the mention of being alone in his house with him her panic from earlier began to return.

All she could think was, _crap he really does want to have sex, well of course he does, I've been stringing him along for two weeks, and he's a man, not a boy, so of course he expects sex after two weeks_. Sensing her hesitation he offered a little more information, "I thought I could make you lunch," he offered, and he could see her visibly relax as the smile he loved came back into view.

"That would be nice," she agreed, "we could probably go now," she gestured to the door, he nodded and took her hand, interlacing his fingers with hers, and she thought for a minute she might melt. They wandered out to the car park in relative silence, enjoying being together outside his office, it wasn't until they'd been in the car for five minutes and he'd snuck a few looks at her whilst driving that she started to feel a little awkward.

"Did you do anything last night," she was trying to be conversational.

He shrugged, "I finished grading those papers you distracted me from the other day," he admitted and she blushed, "not that I mind the distraction," he reached over and rested his hand on her thigh, "how about you?" he asked in return.

_I spent the entire evening thinking about you, and I was so nervous about today I couldn't sleep until 4 in the morning._ "Umm, homework, and I watched a movie, nothing special," she shrugged it off.

They lapsed into silence again, and it felt a little less awkward now that he had his hand resting in her stocking clad thigh, drawing circles with his fingers subconsciously. "This is nice," she said suddenly, "not being in school, it makes it seem more real."

"Yeah," he agreed absently, staying silent for the rest of the trip back to his apartment, letting his mind wander over how nice it would be to be able to stroke the rest of her body the way he was able to stroke her thigh right now, enjoying the way she let her fingernails tickle their way across the back of his hand.

As he pulled up in front of his apartment he had a mild moment of panic, looking around the car park to make sure his nosey neighbour Mrs. Koray, wasn't hovering about, it would be very bad if the invasive old woman saw him entertaining a teenager in his apartment. The woman was nowhere to be seen, but he decided that it still probably wasn't the smartest idea to prolong their exposure to the prying eyes of others, so he ushered her in as fast as possible.

Once inside they both took off their coats, and he went to turn the heater on, returning to find her standing in front of his mantle staring at a photo of him as a kid with his mom and dad. "You were really cute as a kid," she commented as he came to stand behind her, "I mean you're still cute," she turned her head to smile up at him, "but you were **really** cute when you were little, look at your hair," she giggled at the almost fro he'd had as a child.

"Yeah, I guess" he agreed, his cheeks blazing a little red, wishing he'd had the foresight to take down the photo before she came over. He took her hand and pulled her away from the mantle and back towards the kitchen, now wishing he'd actually made something to eat earlier, he really hadn't planned very well for this afternoon, now he had to make her sit and watch him cook, whereas if he'd been prepared he'd have had more time for other activities. "Would you like something to drink?" he offered, trying to find her something to do.

"Sure," she nodded, moving to open the fridge herself and inspect its contents before pulling a bottle of water out of it.

"Is there anything in particular you want to eat?" he offered, "or anything you don't eat," he hadn't even considered that she might be a picky eater.

When she turned away from the fridge to look at him, bottle unopened, she had a smile on her face, it was one he recognised well, "I'm not hungry," she told him, a glint in her eye.

"Oh," he was at a loss for what to say.

"You haven't given me a tour," she chastised him playfully.

"Right," he agreed perking up, a tour gave him a chance to do something other than stand awkwardly in his kitchen. "Well, clearly this is the kitchen, and it kind of doubles as the dining area…" she cut him off.

"Where's the bedroom?" she asked impishly, and he realised which smile it was, it was her, _I want you on me now_ smile, and he was happy to oblige.

He crossed the small kitchen to where she was standing, placing a hand firmly on each hip and walking her backwards towards the hallway, he dipped his head to kiss her, he started with a gentle brush of lips, "different type of appetite, huh?" he teased before his lips went back to their previous ministrations.

"Oh I'm sorry," she pulled back coyly, "did _you_ want to eat?" and her face was pure seduction, it was times like this where he honestly didn't feel like she could possibly be a teenager, she was so womanly, and sexy and confident that he knew this was right.

He chuckled, his breath tickling her jaw, "not even a little bit," he whispered, and then he wrapped his arms around her and hoisted her up so she could clamp her thighs onto his waist. He moved towards the bedroom, walking through the doorway and over to his bed, lowering her down onto the mattress, he detached from her for a moment to state the obvious, "bedroom."

She let her eyes scan what they could find from her vantage point on her back, "I like your ceiling," she joked, "you have beautiful mouldings," and all he could do was laugh in response as he pushed her further up the bed, before climbing up to be above her.

"I wish it was always like this," she offered earnestly, smiling up at him as her hands ran over his chest, playing with the buttons that ran down the centre, but not undoing them. "I wish I could kiss you when I want and talk to you when I want," she trailed off, her eyes dipping away from his, "it would be easier," it was true, this relationship was difficult already and they were only two weeks in, not that she would give it up so easily, but she often found herself dreaming about how different life would be if she were five years older, or he were ten years younger.

He shook his head, "you'd get bored if it was always like this," he told her, "if we could spend as much time as we wanted together, we wouldn't want it as much," he explained, he loved their time together, but he had a fear that at some point the bubble would break, and the amazing balance of fantasy and reality that they currently had going on would tip to one side.

The smile returned to her lips, and the mischievous look to her eyes, "I'm sure you could find ways to entertain me," she insisted, before pulling him down to her.

"I could try," he agreed, letting his lips crash back onto hers, lowering himself onto her, careful not to crush her, she seemed so delicate to him. The way her fingers traced over him ever so gently, sending shivers though his body, which resonated low in his gut, the way her kisses could be so gentle even when she was in the throes of passion, almost as if she never wanted to push him too much. The sounds she made could be so sweet and quiet even in the height of arousal, and he wondered sometimes how she could be so innocent in her seduction, and yet yell like a warrior in Glee at anyone who dared to disagree with her.

He closed his eyes and gave into his feelings, enjoying her soft moist lips which met his own, and the way they kept time with her hips, which moved slowly but noticeably against his own. The kiss was passionate but not frenzied, they were taking their time, and it felt so different, to know that here they wouldn't be disrupted or distracted and they could stay like this for the next hour and a half and no one would be the wiser. He let one of his hands drift down the side of her body, enticing a mewling sound from somewhere in the back of her throat as it ran over the side of her breast and her pelvis heaved up against him again, this time pausing in its raised position, as if seeking more pressure. If that what she wanted she'd get it. He ran his tongue across her teeth, letting it slid within as she opened her mouth for him, before using his hand to push her hips back down onto the bed before sliding his hand up underneath her skirt.

Bypassing the good stuff, he hooked a finger into the top of her stockings giving a bit of a tug in an effort to get them out of the way, and just when he expected her to lift her hips to help him, he instead found her hand pushing at his chest. He broke away and looked down at her, startled when he found a look of panic instead of pleasure on her face. He pushed himself up off of her fast and was kneeling above her within moments, this wasn't how this was supposed to go, she wasn't supposed to look scared, she was supposed to want this, _she does want this_, he tried to convince himself.

She looked up at him apologetically, reaching towards him in an effort to reconnect, physically, but he just moved further away, worry etched into his features, "I thought that's what you wanted, I'm sorry…" he trailed off, not even sure what to say. How had everything changed so quickly?

"It is" she exclaimed, and bolted upright so she was sitting in front of him, but the sentiment didn't quite reach her eyes, and she realised it as fast as he did. "I mean," she paused, looking unsure, "I think it is," she insisted, "it's just that, before this, I've never," and she trailed off again, not knowing how to finish that sentence, but the point was well and truly conveyed.

He chastised himself internally, _of course she's never had sex,_ he thought, _she's sixteen years old, she's just a kid_, and he rolled his eyes at his own inability to have seen this coming.

She seemed to read his mind though and she kneeled up in front of him, trying to make herself level with him, "I do want this," she whispered, letting her hands ghost their way across his cheeks, and she seemed to mean it more. "I want you, you and me, but I think I got ahead of myself," she explained, having realised only in the moment that she wasn't quite ready for a step that big.

As she chewed on her lip, looking up at his face she looked almost embarrassed, and even though he feel like an ass for not having been more careful with her, he took solace in the fact that at least she wasn't freaking out about the whole situation. "Its fine," he assured her, smiling for a moment before climbing off the bed and pulling her with him, "come have lunch," he explained as he went.

He could feel her hesitating behind him as he reached the door, so he stopped and turned to look at her, her face was still covered in worry, and she looked back at the now mussed up bed "are you sure?" she asked, but her tone made the question sound more like '_are you mad?'_

He hated seeing her like that, so he did what felt natural, he wrapped his arms around her waist, and lifted her so their faces were in line, and leaned in and kissed her, making sure that when he broke away there was a big smile on his face, "I'm sure, come have lunch," he insisted as he put her back down, and he was beyond glad to see that the look of worry had dissolved, and turned back into her mega smile, the one he loved, and just like that, he felt at ease again.

Lunch ended up being nice, not awkward like either of them had imagined, he'd busied himself making sandwiches whilst she perused his bookshelf, finding plenty of shared interests among the titles he owned. When they'd finished eating, the conversation had carried on without effort and he'd been lucky that he actually remembered to check the time before they were late. He shepherded her out to the car, and he was glad that she seemed to at ease with the situation, thankful that the 'false start' hadn't stressed her out, or made her permanently uncomfortable. He pulled over a block of two away from the school, in front of an empty park so that no one would peer out their windows and spot them. "Thank you for lunch," he whispered as he leaned over and caught her lips in a quick kiss.

"But you made lunch, so I should be thanking you, not the other way around," she informed him in her friendliest 'bossy' tone.

"Well, then I'm thanking you for the company," he corrected himself.

"It was nice," she smiled and agreed.

"It was wonderful" he insisted as he stroked her cheek, enjoying the look of appreciation his comment and actions elicited. "I should drop you back at school," he pointed out regretfully, not wanting her to be late and arouse suspicion. She nodded and he started the car back up, pulling into the school car park moments later.

She thanked him, for what had ended up being a very nice afternoon, before climbing out of the car and watching him drive away with a dreamy smile on her face, waving half heartedly as his car disappeared out of the gates. She made a move towards her car at the other end of the parking lot, head in the clouds, heart singing, when she heard footsteps behind her, she froze, he mind racing; 'who was it? what did they see? Did they realise who she was with? What would they surmise?'

"Were you with Mr. Shue that whole time?" the question was loaded and laced with innuendo, topped off with a sizable dose of contempt.

Rachel turned to face her captor, "Quinn? What are you doing here?"…

**CLIFFHANGER…. BOM BOM BOM … please review and let me know what you think, there's almost no chance I'll update unless I think people want me to! I'm lousy with inspiration!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Ummm, I was feeling a little inspired by Brittany's "how many students have you had affairs with?" question!... so yeah, I just wrote it!... I'll try my very bestest to stay inspired long enough to write another chapter soon!**

"Were you with Mr. Shue that whole time?" the question was loaded and laced with innuendo, topped off with a sizable dose of contempt.

Rachel turned to face her captor, "Quinn? What are you doing here?"…

"Puck forgot he was supposed to take me home," she answered flippantly, staring at Rachel with new found interest, "he's not answering his cell," she added as a follow up. "What were you doing with him?" she asked, with a sly look that almost looked like a smile.

"Noah and I haven't done anything together for months" Rachel replied, feigning misunderstanding.

Quinn rolled her eyes, seeing right through her bullshit, "with Mr. Shue," she repeated, "for almost two hours!" she pointed out, "in his car?" she seemed almost giddy with scandal as she uttered the last part of her question.

Rachel took an internal moment to debate the best answer, "that wasn't Mr. Shue," she said matter of factly, before turning back towards her car.

Quinn scoffed behind her, "that wasn't Mr. Shue? Really? You think I'm going to buy that?" she answered as she followed Rachel to her car, "I have two eyes, and I saw him, and his car, you were with Mr. Shue!" she yelled gleefully, "this is just the most awesome dirt I could ever have against you, you're screwing a teacher!"

At that Rachel whirled around angrily, "I am not screwing Mr. Shue," she yelled and then she stomped away.

"So just heavy petting then?" Quinn couldn't even hide the laugh that came out with the question.

Rachel huffed, "he was just helping me with my vocals," she said as she climbed into her car and slammed the door.

"In his car?" Quinn asked as she opened the other door and climbed into the passenger seat.

"Cars have fantastic acoustics," she retaliated, "what are you doing?" she asked impetuously as she watched Quinn close the door and buckle herself in.

"What? Like you're really going to leave me here? It's cold, and I'm 16 and pregnant" Quinn said as she waved for Rachel to start driving.

Rachel rolled her eyes at the blonde's complete lack of etiquette, but chose to stay silent, praying that maybe Quinn would buy her story, she knew the likelihood was almost non-existent, but she had to hope.

"I am an excellent secret keeper you know, I won't tell anyone your getting it on with a teacher," it wasn't said kindly per say but it also wasn't said with malice, and Rachel couldn't quite work out if Quinn was being honest, or just trying to get a confession.

"Well I'm not, so you probably shouldn't," she said quietly, not really knowing how she had allowed herself to get stuck in a car with Quinn Fabray.

Quinn rolled her eyes, "you so are, and whether you admit it or not I could still spread it around the school, tell principle Figgins, and all that, so maybe you should make a decision now about how much you want to annoy me by lying," and there was the threat Rachel had been waiting for.

She took a moment to get her emotions in check before replying, "you love Mr. Shue, just like the rest of us, why would you do that to him, he'd lose his job," she pointed out.

"Well firstly, I don't love him quite like you do," she said with innuendo, "and secondly, hmm, why would I tell people? Gee, I don't know, maybe because he's pedo-ing a student? And that's a bit, what's the word?" she said with mock confusion, "Oh right, illegal!"

As Rachel pulled up at a stop sign she just turned and glared at Quinn, "what do you want?" she asked before taking off again.

"So you admit it?" Quinn asked, brimming with energy.

"No, I just want to know what it will take for you to not spread a malicious rumour?" she asked, "especially one that isn't true!"She added as an afterthought.

Quinn seemed to accept the offer and stopped to consider her request, a look of uneasiness crossed her features, one which Rachel missed, as she had turned back to look at the road while she kept driving.

"What do you do on Thursday nights?" the cheerio asked, a waiver of hesitation still in her voice.

"Nothing, I used to have a dance class, but now that's on a Tuesday," she answered automatically before considering the question, and then asked "why?" with suspicion.

"Puck has fight club, and he won't come to my teen mom Lamaze classes, I went by myself once, it was embarrassing," Quinn tried to act cavalier, rolling her eyes to disguise her discomfort, "I mean, women have been having babies forever, and they never used to have birth classes, so it's not really a big deal if I don't go, but the teacher lady keeps calling me telling me I should come again even if I'm alone," she left the comment hanging in the air, it had taken all of her courage just to tell Rachel, she couldn't ask her straight out.

She didn't need to, oblivious as she was to social normality, Rachel wasn't an idiot, "you want me to go with you?" is was asked with great unease, not even entirely sure that's what Quinn was getting at, maybe all she wanted was for Rachel to try to convince Noah to change his mind.

"I dunno," Quinn shrugged, "if you wanted to, you could," _wow, _she berated herself, _try harder to sound pathetic._

Rachel pondered the thought for a moment, trying her best not to sound offensive she asked, "won't that be a bit weird? Going with…" she considered saying 'a friend' but it was pretty far from the truth, instead she went with, "another girl?"

Quinn started to feel very awkward, that sounded like a no, it was veiled, but still, "maybe," she admitted, feeling a bit defeated, but she was going to give it her best shot. She knew what outcome she wanted, well needed, she needed someone to go to these classes with, she wanted to go to the classes, and she certainly wasn't ever setting foot in that room of hormonal teenagers again without having someone in her corner, "most of the girls are just there with their parents, or their friends, because their baby daddies are all drop kicks, it wouldn't be that weird," she assured the man handed midget.

"Oh," Rachel responded, "so you're asking me to go, because you'd like a friend there?" she clarified, she had picked up on the 'f' bomb.

"Well…" '_No,_ _I'm asking you to go because I'm too embarrassed to ask anyone else, and now that I have the best gossip on you I know you won't dare tell anyone about it,' _ seemed like a poor choice if she wanted company, "yeah," she simply replied.

"Umm, ok," Rachel agreed hesitantly, pulling up in front of Noahs house to let Quinn out, she wondered silently if she was making a huge mistake letting Quinn any closer to her considering what she seemed to know. She was panicking internally while Quinn climbed out of the car, wondering what she should tell Mr. Shue, or even if she should tell him at all, maybe if she did this for Quinn, the blonde really would keep her silence, although that seemed like a offer to good to be true, because honestly, when was Quinn ever good, or kind, or merciful. Never, that's when.

"Great, pick me up from here on Thursday at 5, ok, I wanna go and get dinner first, I'm dying for anything with bacon!" she said, before slamming the door shut and stalking off towards the house.

Ears still reverberating from the sound of the door closing, Rachel's thoughts turned to one simple fact, "I'm so screwed!" she muttered out loud.

**Please review, tell me if you like where this is going!**


End file.

Glee, Romance